Tuesday, April 14

"So I write like Edgar Allen to restore"

Song: Da Art of Storytellin' (Part. 4)
Artist: Outkast
Album: Some DJ Drama Mixtape

It's not like I come from a humble little town, where everyone struggles to get out. It's almost like a rite of passage, to leave Princeton and then come back with a success story. Of course there are cases of a dream deferred and unfortunate circumstances, but what happens to a person who never had a dream?

Walking down Dear Old Nassau I see shops and coffee houses that I've frequented since my early childhood. I had my first kiss in the middle of the street during communiversity, and had my first heartbreak at the pizzeria down the block. My father bought my step-mother's wedding ring from the jewelry store on the corner, and my choir sung Christmas carols at the store across the way. As I keep walking, the memories fade and reality cannot escape my eyes. I see a best-friend from year's past, with eyes glazed over, blind to the images of the real world. I see a psuedo-cousin, lost to the wills of a man who left a gift and curse in the hands of one. I see a scared girl, trapped in the body of a woman who lives in fear of leaving home.

While I try to empathize with all of them, a mental barrier sits between us on that park bench in Palmer Square. We all went to the same high school, had the same resources, and the same opportunities. I didn't work hard in High School, in fact I screwed around in High School, getting by on personality and a good vocabulary. (and bomb SAT scores) So what determines who will open the door to success, and who will try the lock and walk away? I left to go to college, never questioning it as a choice, but more as an obligation/expectation, but while I left, others stayed. They got jobs in town, partied at night, and went home to houses they cannot call their own. Vicious Cycles are created, while others are repeated.